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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Is it a tinker you are?" says the king. "No," says the saint; "I'm no tinker by trade, King O'Toole; I've a better trade than a tinker," says he "what would you say," says he, "if I made your old goose as good as new?" My dear, at the word of making his goose as good as new, you'd think the poor old king's eyes were ready to jump out of his head.
"Oh yes; O'Toole shall certainly swing for this. Discipline must and shall be maintained. Send out and catch the fellow. Have him up here at once." They sent out and they hunted everywhere, but nowhere could they discover any traces of the brilliant, the festive, the imaginative, the mimetic, the ingenious O'Toole. He was never seen again.
"Arrah! thim spalpeens w'd be mighty claver to get onything out of Biddy O'Toole," she answered, with a curl of her lips and cock of her nose, while her eyes twinkled; "sure if they force themselves into the house while the master is away, I'll bid them dare to disturb my old mither, whose troubled with a fever. If they come near the room, I'll give them a taste of the broomstick."
"But I have put no money in a lottery," objected Gaydon. "Nor I," said Misset. "And where should I find money either?" said O'Toole. "But Charles Wogan has borrowed it for us and paid it in, and so we're all rich men. What'll I buy with it?" Misset paced the room. "The paper came four days ago?" he said. "Yes, in the morning." "Five days, then," and he stood listening.
"I want a lemon squash three feet long. There'll be one for you, Murty, if you come up." "I will that same," said Mr. O'Toole, promptly. "There's no vegetable loike the limon on a day loike this!" So they let Bobs go, and all trooped inside, where Cecil was found, well brushed, and wearing a martyred expression which, however, was not proof against refreshments.
He greeted the tenth man cheerfully and the tenth man was Murty O'Toole, very hot and nervous, and certainly the most miserable man on the ground as he faced "Masther Jim's" bowling, and knew that the alien hopes of Mulgoa depended on him.
"Balbus aedificabat murum," said he; and a voice that made O'Toole start cried, "Enough of this! Stand aside, whoever you may be." It was the second of the two men who spoke, and he dropped the cloak from his face. "The King!" exclaimed O'Toole, and he stood aside. The two men passed into the garden, and Wogan saw them from the window.
"But since I came home, we have been busy. Father McGrath went down to Ballycleuch, as bold as a lion, in his new clothing, swearing that he'd lead Father O'Toole by the nose for slamming the door in his face, and so he would have done, if he could have found him; but as he wasn't to be found, Father McGrath came back again just as wise, and quite as brave, as he went out.
"A hundred guineas and a damask gown! Three hundred guineas and a gown all lace and gold tags would not be enough. Besides, I'll wager he has not paid you a farthing. He'll cheat you, Jenny. He's a rare bite is O'Toole. Between you and me, Jenny, he is a beggarly fellow!" "He has already paid me half," cried Jenny. It was no knowledge to Wogan, who, however, counterfeited a deal of surprise.
"'She had an accident, by yer lave, 'bout a month ago. How was it ye niver hearn tell? Waren't ye here whin th' old man brought her ashore? "'I come from 'Frisco, says she. "'Well, I s'pose ye might as well know now as niver, O'Toole blurted out; 'she's dead, owld woman. Been dead a month gone.
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